Curse of Earth
by OniAkamari
Summary: The story of how Orochimaru finds his shinobi in the unlikeliest places.


**Author's Note:** This story offers a little insight on how Orochimaru built up his Oto forces before the attacks upon Konoha. The time set is...several years before the chunin exams and just after the snake left Akatsuki I wager. Masaru is one of the Oto nin I have created to serve the snake. He is of no great importance he is just another ninja Oroshimaru cursed to make stronger and aid his goal. To Orochimaru, Masaru and the stuudents later assigned to him, are disposable. Merely test subjects. But as my main Oto nin I decided to share his backstory.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Naruto_ or any of its shinobi but the city mentioned and Masaru are of my own mind

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Shadows covered the city scape despite the bright lights that flashed atop chain casinos and host spots. Secrets were dealt in the shadows of the city that few respectable shinobi passed. The city was only just outside of Waterfall and yet it acted as though the nearest authorative village was leagues away.

Business: the only thing the elite and most corrupt of this city cared about. Hustling at the casinos. Drug dealings under the table at the host clubs. The occasional underground organization roughing up debters in the back alleys. This was all normal.

Especially to those who were born to the corrupt. Even when their own heart was pure, or as a pure as the city was capable of dealing out.

Sixteen years of living in a corrupted city changes people. By day the role of a club owners son, by night the partaking of your own less than legal acts.

As night crept over the city one raven pushed open the back doors to his father's club roughly, his face hidden by shades, the collar of his coat pulled up. Underneath the coat a coiled whip lay tucked away.

The figure swept through the city unnoticed, part of the city's shadowy landscape. His goal? Theft. His target? Foreign to the city. Someone the local law enforcements would give a hard time and eventually not even help at all.

Piercing onyx eyes swept over the crowds that flocked at night until a devious smirk swept over his face. There.

A raven like himself, alone, and donned in traditional robes. Definately not a native the city that acted by day and lived by night. Smirk still gracing the pale and handsome face, the teen proceeded to phase two, stealth and stalking.

He blended into the crowd, his eyes locked on the pale raven he claimed his target. By the looks of it the man was wealthy, of a class that didn't often associate with the likes of the teen's people. Perfect.

He continued to follow the man for some time, slipping unseen into crowds and casualy walking into stores and the like as he kept his target in sight. Until his target made the mistake of leaving the crowds behind and walked into the shadows.

As the man walked there was loud snap of leather as the whip was uncoiled and aimed at the man. Years of training his skill, the teen was unmatched in the art of using a whip for just about any deed. Theft, defense, attack, and even sex, but what could be expected of a host's son.

Normally one snap the wrist, a warning. A second snap with the demand. And a third to tell them they made a wise choice. He never failed. And on the off chance his target got wise, he could easily go into offense and have them pinned within seconds.

But this was to be different.

As the whip was about to make contact the man spun on his heel and grabbed the whip in a delicate hand. He tugged violently on the chord and pulled the more than surprised teen from the shadows. The tug deprived him of his balence sending him to his knees before the pale man above him.

"You have been following me for some time," the man said softly with almost a hiss. Golden eyes peered brightly from the dark.

The teen looked up defiantly, a useless tug on his whip showed the man's stregnth defied his looks.

"What is your name, child?"

"Masaru," he hissed as his eyes followed the man who encircled him.

"Orochimaru," the man said with a small bow of his head towards Masaru. He was silent as he looked over the boy, eyes tearing though the soul, at least thats how the looks felt to Masaru.

"What do you want with me?" Masaru questioned, voice calm and defying his thoughts. He knew well what happened to most who got caught, he had lost some friends, some allies, seen some of them in such states he couldn't bare eye contact with them for his pity would be clear. And they did not favor pity.

"It's not what I want, Masaru-kun, it's what you want." Masaru looked at him quizzically before Orochimaru continued, "Do you desire power, Masaru-kun?"

The teen was silent before looking up. Power. It was a common human desire. Of course Masaru wanted it. Power could get you anything you wanted in this world. That was key. "Hai."

Orochimaru swept before him and crouched down by the teen. He removed Masaru's sunglasses and brushed back raven hair to get a clear view of the pale and unscarred face. Masaru never shuddered at the cold touch as he locked defiant onyx eyes with mischievous and dominating gold.

Standing up, the snake like man looked down at the boy. "To gain power, you must leave this place. You must serve me and become one of my shinobi," he hissed.

Masaru blinked and collected his thoughts. Leaving behind the city of corruption was a no brainer. He had wanted out his whole life, and now the offer was there. To serve as a shinobi? He was unsure, the ways of Waterfall shinobi was not for him. The great villages had never appealed to Masaru, but to be a shinobi with no ties to a village had been a dream. And looking over Orochimaru he was sure the man beloned to no such village.

"Well?"

"Hai. I will follow and serve you," he dipped his head still kneeling, "Orochimaru-sama."

The snake smirked, "Excellent, Masaru-kun."

As Masaru looked up to ask what he would have to do, he caught the final symbols of some jutsu Orochimaru was to perform. If time permitted he would have scrambled backwards as he watched Orochimaru's neck enlongate, head coming towards him like a snake, fangs bared.

As fangs met skin and the man's neck retreated back to normal, a black curse mark formed on Masaru's pale skin, the Curse of Earth. Intial shock caused Masaru to be silent with wide eyes, but as the seal burned into his skin and the pattern of earth moved across his torso Masaru screamed.

He fell onto all fours, long raven hair falling over his face, covering it from view, as he screwwed his face shut and screamed. Fingers clutched the ground so hard he was sure the rocks would scar him, and yet the mark spread across his frame, Orochimaru watched calmly from the side.

At some point Masaru lost even that balance and fell to his side clutching at his neck in hopes of ending the pain, a futile wish. His screaming muffled as his throat grew hoarse and faded into pained whimpers. He was unsure of how much time passed. It felt like hours had melted into days.

Eventually the pain subsided and left a throbbing in his neck, equivilant to that of large metal shuriken beging lodged in one's neck, leaving Masaru laying in cold sweat on the ground. Hair clung to his face making him seem youger and frailer as he used whatever stregnth reserves he had to get on his knees.

Orochimaru had a pleased smirk on his face as he stood over the boy. A graceful hand once more brushed raven locks from the pale face before him and slid down the teens cheek before the hand rested at its owner's side. "Well done, Masaru-kun," he said softly.

The teen had no reply as he feebly looked up at Orochimaru, the sun rising behind the man, but it could have been setting for he wasn't too sure how long he had been screaming in agony.

The snake like man turned around and walked back towards the city, "I shall be in town one more night before we depart, Masaru-kun. I shall meet you here this time tomorrow," he said as he walked off.

Masaru looked after him before falling to his side again deciding rest was needed before getting up. And even if he didn't get up, he would be there when Orochimaru returned. A hand reached up and touched his forehead as the other clenched the whip he had forgotten at his side.

After all no one came to this spot.

This was the exit from hell.

This was the exit from home.


End file.
